


i dreamed a dream

by setosdarkness



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setosdarkness/pseuds/setosdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouichi has a dream: of a sunny summer, of an alive autumn, of a whimsical winter, of a splendid spring. A dream of a paradise—but that's what makes a dream a dream. And nothing but a dream. [Byakuran/Shouichi AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	i dreamed a dream

> Shouichi has a dream: of a sunny summer, of an alive autumn, of a whimsical winter, of a splendid spring. A dream of a paradise—but that's what makes a dream a dream. And nothing but a dream.

  


└ _i dreamed a dream_ ┐  
( _in summer_ )  
\- **i. the sun** -  


Shouichi has a dream.

He knows it's a dream, because everything is cheerful and sunny and vibrant, with the faint scent of something unmistakably _summer_. He knows it's a dream, because the world outside is gloomy and cloudy and ashen, with the heady smell of something unwaveringly _despair_.

Instead of the melodies of birds' songs and the whispers of the warm wind, the world outside has a chorus of pounding acid rain upon eroding concrete, with a sweet refrain of drugged dreams.

Shouichi has a dream.

A dream like this has a price tag of maybe a month's worth of food supplies, maybe even more. The surroundings are pleasant, almost hypnotizing—the red and orange tulips lining the park perimeters brilliant and inviting—the clear sky overhead high and limitless.

It's a world from a time long past, a time that only exists in crushed skulls, broken hearts, abject memories.

Whoever dragged him to this dream must be an optimist: everything looks a tad brighter, a bit more paradisial. It's what makes this dream really a dream.

Ever since the dream machine's blueprint has been leaked for mass-production, underground establishments of so-called dream factories have started growing, like mushrooms sprouting out of humus. Establishments sponsored by what the world called "mafia" in a time of relative peacefulness are now the only reason most people continue to live.

Living has now become something that's spent scrunging up food rations and working for the United Earth Force—and then offering whatever little they have to the Establishments, offering everything they are so they can spend an hour in a dream where every day is in cheery summer and everything is _fine_.

Shouichi wonders for what purpose is he in a dream like this; he doesn't remember sleeping and falling into this world artistically carved and kept in a bubble of fairytale fantasy, but that's why this is a dream. No recollection of the past, no criticism of the present, no pressure of the future.

He thinks he knows the reason why, but this is a dream and what he thinks he knows might just be a figment of his imagination. Or someone else's.

Shouichi goes along with the flow, allows his decidedly younger body move along seamlessly with the crowd, stumbling a bit over sneakers that feel slightly tight on his left foot, sweat forming at his checkered collar from the summer sun's rays.

He knows he knows this place, but somehow everything looks more lively. It's a place from a chapter in his memory that he relieves uncomfortably often—his only respite from the torture of living in this world.

'New America University of Technology and Engineering', that's what the print on his matriculation card says, that's what the golden engravings on the main gate proclaims.

Shouichi knows this is his university from a time when there's no world war yet, no evil conquerors yet, no human despair yet. Ten years ago and he's but a normal student here—an exchange student with a couple of recognitions, but a normal student nevertheless.

His matriculation card tells him that he's a university sophomore and he knows this is nothing but just a dream.

Shouichi takes a flight of steps towards the lecture hall for the subject he dislikes the most: Classical Literature. Most of his classmates attend this for the Shakespearean plays, but he's just here to clear up his credits for the Humanities Department.

He takes a seat on the last row, near the window where he can see the clear blue sky that should remind him of something important, but doesn't. The clear blue sky that has disappeared five years ago and has been replaced by something that's a mix of soot and ashes and eternal hell.

He knows it's a dream, but he still feels his heart skip one-two-three beats when his eyes stray to the front row just in time to witness the arrival of a white-haired student. Murmurs ripple through the other students—waves of "Oh, he looks dreamy!", crests of "Whoa, he has white hair!", throughs of "Great, just great. A pretty boy Romeo in our class"—but the white-haired student looks up and looks straight at Shouichi instead.

This is just a dream, a retelling of a memory that Shouichi has always cherished, even when the world is suddenly bombared by missiles that have an entirely different technology and that technology is suddenly ruled by a scientist with an entirely different background.

This is just a dream, but he flushes pink anyway, feels the spark in their first meeting still.

Shouichi has a dream—a dream that's worth more than he can afford, a dream that's given to him for a reason that he cannot think of, a dream that's a memory revisited countless times.

"You look interesting," the white-haired student starts their first vocal conversation—because it felt like their eyes did a lot of communicating in just that coincidental split-second—with a smile that can easily make its way on television screens. "And young. You're Japanese?"

Shouichi's pink cheeks bloom into red, capillaries beneath his skin flooded with life. "H-How did you know?"

"Maa, I heard that there's a young Japanese genius from the engineering department taking this class~"

"I'm not a genius!" Shouichi protests (again).

"Maybe not," the strange student relents, seemingly both aware and unaware of the attention he's drawing to himself so naturally, "but you're definitely _special_."

The word 'special' has never sounded so enticing.

Shouichi wonders, maybe not for the first time, why is this dream so focused on his memories, down to the last detail. Every single syllable of the conversation is the same, every single cloud in the sky, every single classmate in the lecture hall—everything is faithful to his memories.

"S-Special?" Awkward and definitely not used to compliments from strange strangers with smiles that cause him mini-heart-attacks at every instance, Shouichi becomes painfully aware of the eavesdroppers around.

"Yes, _special_." The sound of the teacher's high heels entering the lecture hall visibly disappoints the student. The carefree voice drops an octave into a serious tone. "I _love_ special things."

The seriousness disappears a moment after, when the student offers him a hand. "I'm Byakuran, by the way."

Shouichi feels another heart attack coming. He takes the offered hand, shakes it gingerly, shyly. "I'm Sho—"

"Of course I know Shou-chan ❤"

"...Pardon me, but what do you mean 'of course'?"

Byakuran laughs a little too loud and the teacher doesn't even glare at him warningly.

"I told you I love special things~♪"

└ _i dreamed a dream_ ┐

  
( _in autumn_ )  
\- **ii. the devil** -

Shouichi has a dream.

He knows it's a dream, because he might not be fully aware of the start of this orange autumn or the end of his golden summer, but he knows that there's only one explanation for the way he feels half like waking up to the surface of his mind and half like drowning into a deeper level of sleep.

The sense of hazy forgetfulness he has vaguely felt while he allowed his university sophomore self be swept away yet again into the worryfree world that can only belong to a teenager... it's even stronger now: the haziness losing the gray around its edges and gaining a darker tint.

He knows it's a dream.

He's not ignorant about the way mafia groups established themselves to hold an oligopoly over the control of dreaming centers, in the same way he's not ignorant about the way people have harnessed the power of dreams to retrieve important information on someone's mind.

Shouichi doesn't think that there's information worth looking for in his mind, not now. There are also risks, _life-threatening risks_ , involved when one dives deep into someone's subconscious. Shouichi doesn't think that his dreams possess information worth risking one's life.

Shouichi has a dream: he can see the Vongola's core members assembled in the room with minimal lighting (not by choice, since electricity is one of the rarest and most expensive supplies to acquire).

Tsunayoshi is in the middle, is the Vongola's _tree_ , with his guardians and Famiglia branching out from him and his ideals. There's Gokudera: eyeglasses resting on his face and silver hair tied up, in full researcher mode. Yamamoto isn't sitting far from him: his easygoing grin tapered with the glum reality of the world they're existing in.

Ryohei is by the half-open door, murmuring words of assurance to his sister and his girlfriend. Even Lambo is subdued, his curly hair droopy and his eyes focused on the mission proposals instead of his self-proclaimed rival. Chrome is beside him, fiddling with her ring, twisting it around and around her finger, nervousness and anxiety wracking her frame ever since the news about Mukuro's disappearance has reached the base.

Hibari is nowhere to be seen, but Shouichi has no doubt that the other man will enter the battlefield more prepared and more composed than the people huddled in this cramped room.

The ground groans for a few minutes—prompting Bianchi and Fuuta to pause in their explanations of Infiltration Plan Code 19C. When it first happened, everyone panicked at the prospect of an earthquake causing their base to be buried alongside the heavy debris above-ground. Now, these earthquakes have been accepted as part of daily life, among other things.

Tsunayoshi asks his subordinates to continue the explanations the moment the overhead lamp stops swaying. Shouichi knows Tsunayoshi from a time before university, but the Tsunayoshi from before and the Tsunayoshi from the present and the Tsunayoshi from this dream (because this is nothing but a dream)—has changed so much, yet so little.

As before, Shouichi jolts out of his wandering thoughts just in time to witness Tsunayoshi declare: "We will save the world."

Shouichi has a dream.

He knows this is a dream, because this is but another memory, from a time after a monster wielding an army that utilized new technology has conquered the world under a curtain of absolute dictatorship.

He knows this is a dream, because like a tree with barren branches under the autumn sky, Tsunayoshi's branches have already been pruned by the black sky above, and Vongola is already nearly completely destroyed.

>   
> "I knew it," a voice breathless with awe, "Shou-chan really is a genius."
> 
> "You can stop flattering me, Byakuran-san," Shouichi holds a hand up to stop his classmate's upcoming protests, "I definitely cannot allow you to go with me back to Japan."
> 
> Instead of protests, however, there's a satisfied smile on Byakuran's face. "So Shou-chan is flattered? I'm glad."
> 
> He has been so used to hearing the other say outrageous things with a voice that drips with too much gaiety, so it's a surprise to hear the oddly sincere tone. It's enough to burn a pink blush on Shouichi's cheeks. "T-T-T-T-That's not the point! What I'm saying is—"
> 
> "Shou-chan is really amazing," Byakuran tells him gently, right index finger that smells strongly of marshmallows is on his lips to silence him, left hand idly caressing the computer screen that proclaims 'Irie Shouichi' to be the game's winner. "To develop such an interesting game like this..."
> 
> Shouichi averts his eyes and lifts the finger away from his lips. Byakuran then laces their hands together, and he doesn't protest... much.
> 
> "You also helped a lot, Byakuran-san."
> 
> "Maa, that's true." There's an increased pressure on their clasped hands. "I'll be content if I'm half as smart as Shou-chan!"
> 
> "You're exaggerating."
> 
> "I have so many things I want to try and do, but I'm just no good~"
> 
> "If you have time for your questionable hobbies, Byakuran-san, I suggest that you spend more time on your coursework—"
> 
> " _Mou_ , Shou-chan is starting to sound like my mom~!"  
> 
>
>> Shouichi knows this is a memory, but it feels so far away now, it feels so different to look back at it now. Shouichi knows this is a dream, so he knows that the course of this particular history won't ever be changed.
> 
> Feeling a little guilty at the other's whining and pitiful pout, Shouichi gives a little sigh. "You know you can always ask me for help, Byakuran-san."
> 
> Byakuran's eyes look excited then, a mysterious, intense shade of purple.
> 
> "Ne, Shou-chan... do you mind helping me out with my project?"
> 
> Shouichi feels a spark of suspicion then. A spark that he ignores in favor for helping his most important friend. "What is it about?"
> 
> "I'm interested in studying dreams~♪"  
> 

  


└ _i dreamed a dream_ ┐  
( _in winter_ )  
\- **iii. the death** -

Shouichi has a dream.

He knows it's a dream, because he is a person who is proud of his presence of mind, if nothing else, and this place reeks of encompassing abyss, of a black cloud of uncertainty. He knows it's a dream, because he's recalling things that he never ever wants to consciously remember.

Shouichi has a dream.

He knows it's a dream: from the stretch of snow-white land from his panoramic view on top of a stainless white castle, from the black-red clouds of war booming overhead, from the Millefiore-technology-controlled supercell lightning clouds bringing destruction upon its wake. He knows it's a dream because he's back to this winter-white place devoid of any warmth, even though he has left this place a long time ago.

Shouichi knows that he must know why is he in this dream—this is certainly the third level of dreaming, and he can feel his mind giving away at every snap of his fingers, he can feel his subconscious losing grip on thoughts and memories that he doesn't ever want to see.

There's nothing in this memory that can be considered valuable, nothing in this memory that the world hasn't seen: everyone already suspects his immense closeness with his cheerfully sadistic—

There's nothing here, but the pure white that encloses his vision. There's an explosion on the upper-right of the Melone Fortress, but their technology has been leaked by that mole, Mukuro—

There's nothing here, but some of the disgruntled and dissatisfied soldiers that are now turning towards the kinder and nicer Vongola, and are now turning towards him, towards _them_ , with guns and chains—

There's nothing but a world that has forsaken him.  


>   
> "I still don't trust you," Gokudera scoffs at him, his expression closely mirroring that of an irritated cat's.
> 
> Shouichi smiles crookedly, hands busy reprogramming the shields in Sector D. "I'm not asking you to."
> 
> "You—!!"
> 
> Shouichi is grateful for Yamamoto's sudden intervention; he doesn't enjoy hearing Gokudera's squawks while he's working. He continues fiddling with the computer controls for a few more moments, but he finds his eyes straying to the door in front of him, opposite of where Yamamoto dragged Gokudera to. Vongola may not be like other Establishments that transform the sad reality of dream machines into business opportunities, but they _do_ have a dream machine. _The_ dream machine. The best of its kind.
> 
> Shouichi knows this is a dream within a dream within a dream, but he can do nothing when he watches the younger version of himself stand up and take slow, deliberate steps towards the door. He hears no sounds, just like that day, and there is no Yamamoto or Gokudera around to stop him, no Tsunayoshi to convince him.
> 
> Shouichi has a dream.
> 
> Outside, the world is rebelling against the charcoal-sky and the ashen-land, devoid of colors of red and brown that signify the autumn season. Inside Vongola's underground headquarters, Shouichi's world is all-black, with walls whispering whisps of what-could-have-beens. Deep inside Shouichi's mind is a turbulent storm: numbers from weapon calculations collide with theories from consciousness disruptions, mission to save the world crash with feelings to save a friend.
> 
> Shouichi knows this is simply a dream, of a time when the autumn wind hasn't plucked off the leaves that protect the Vongola's tree, of a time when he was still a fledgling in the mafia world, when he was not sent to Millefiore to betray anyone.
> 
> As though to remind himself of the fact, his phone rings. And because this is a dream, and nothing but a dream, Shouichi answers the call.
> 
> [ "Hello, Shou-chan! Change of plans! I can pick you up at your place tomorrow at 3?" ]
> 
> This is a dream of a time when they're still friends.  
> 
>
>>   
> "You're so lazy, Byakuran-san," Shouichi comments, biting his lip to check whether there's any stray affectionate tone in his words that Byakuran might misinterpret into something else.
>> 
>> "I don't need to work hard," Byakuran agrees jovially, snapping his hardbound book shut, "because Shou-chan's here~♪"
>> 
>> "You just want me to do all the work," Shouichi replies, something that Byakuran doesn't deny. It is Byakuran's idea to study the world of dreams, but it's Shouichi's research that lands them to connecting the world of dreams with the newly-discovered zion brain waves.
>> 
>> "...I've been found out?"
>> 
>> Shouichi nearly facepalms when he sees Byakuran completely abandon his workstation and attack his stack of very unhealthy sweets. "If you're not helping, can you please stop disturbing me then?"
>> 
>> "But I _love_ watching Shou-chan work," Byakuran whines with a tone more appropriate for little kids, instead of a tone befitting someone who's surprisingly (or not-so-surprisingly, depending on who was asked) at the top of his class.  
> 
>>
>>> Shouichi knows this is nothing but a memory, a memory of a time when he knew nothing about the evils of human greed, when he expected nothing about apathy being the complete opposite of love, when he wanted nothing but to stay by Byakuran's side. Shouichi knows that this is just a dream, and nothing but a dream. And that is why he can't do anything to change his actions, why he can't do anything anymore. 
>> 
>>   
> "You're teasing me," Shouichi feels his cheeks heat up, so he lowers his head a little bit, hides the blush away from the other's mischievous eyes.
>> 
>> "I am," Byakuran agrees amiably, places fingers sticky with left-over candy traces over his temples, makes Shouichi's eyes flutter shut in anticipation, " _Shou-chan_."  
> 
> 
>   
> 

  


└ _i dreamed a dream_ ┐  
( _in spring_ )  
\- **iv. the world** -

Shouichi has a dream.

He knows it's a dream, because he can see Uni in front of him.

"You're dead," Shouichi bites his lip, hard, but even the blood in his mouth isn't enough to drown Uni's appearance crimson. "You're _dead_."

Uni's eyes are as glassy as they were when she was still held inside Millefiore's special holding chambers.

"I live in the world of dreams," Uni's voice is soft, gentle. Shouichi doesn't know if that's because of the dream's deeper levels chipping into his mind, or if it's because Uni is really just that nice, even towards someone who helped lead her to her death. "...But of course, Irie-san already knows that."

"Is this your doing?" Shouichi asks, pushing past the guilt that hammers down on his chest, gesturing to the monochrome world he's in. This is already the fourth-level of his dream, something that stayed as theoretically possible but physically improbable for the past ten years. Shouichi can feel his fingers alternating between getting tingly and becoming numb, can feel his eyes alternating between drying out and tearing up.

"Irie-san needs to wake up," Uni remarks with a little smile, "because Tsunayoshi-kun still needs him. The world still needs him."

'They don't', Shouichi almost opens his mouth to reply. Instead, he swallows, gaze fixed at the door behind Uni. It's the gateway to the fifth dream level, a place that even papers and calculations can't touch.

Has never touched before.

Shouichi takes a small step forward, the black-and-white tiles underneath his shoes creaking. "You can't keep on living like this," urgency sets light to Uni's eyes. "Byakuran is already—"

"He isn't," Shouichi laughs, an odd note of triumph, the hollow sound echoing throughout this monochrome world.

For this is just a dream, and nothing but a dream.

> The blinking countdown displayed on the huge monitor screens are for the loading time of their hadron cannon, with Tsunayoshi's safehouse as the target. In contrast to the ominous feeling it paints over the other side of the warzone, the countdown's background is a bouncing _blob_ that's a caricature of Byakuran's face and of the hadron cannon's launcher.
> 
> Shouichi's fingers shake uncontrollably—the past Shouichi who would find the countdown exasperating but adorable and the present Shouichi who is feeling nothing but a well of terror: both thoughts sliding and scraping against each other. He tries to stop his trembling as the numbers enter the ten-minute mark.
> 
> He wasn't there when they planned for this attack, wasn't there when Bianchi was caught in the blast radius of one of the missile attacks, wasn't there when Tsunayoshi had their Princess Uni taken away from their care. Shouichi wasn't there, which is why he doesn't know what to expect, what to wish for.
> 
> He was here, instead, in a fortress removed from the rest of humanity, worshipped on a throne he doesn't want nor deserve. He isn't involved in the politics or business side of Millefiore's ruling; his only concern is the development of the weapons—missiles, because they're Byakuran's favorite—and the optimization of the dream machine. He isn't even involved yet he's the right-hand man, something that a traitor like him should never have achieved.
> 
> It isn't in the plan—Shouichi doesn't think that it ever had a place in the plan—but the countdown suddenly freezes, before the command systems forcefully disconnect, then terminate. There's only one person who could have had the opportunity to slip into the impregnable security system Shouchi co-designed, and that person is Vongola's most questionable ally.
> 
> "Mukuro-kun is so naughty, ne?" Byakuran's expression is completely cheerful, unfazed, but Shouichi can see the little traces of strain on the other's wide smile. "He sooooo needs to be punished~"
> 
> Colored gas bombs erupt one after another in the main command center and Shouichi doesn't even think twice before pulling Byakuran close and dragging the Millefiore boss towards the safety exits he designed. He tries to tell himself that it's all part of his cover—the operation has started but he should leave the revelation at the last possible moment—but there's nothing much he can do but try to protect the same person he's trying to kill.
> 
> "Oho, we're abandoning the bridge?"
> 
> "Stop talking, Byakuran-san," Shouichi says through gritted teeth, "you'll inhale the gas."
> 
> "But you're talking too," and somehow, Shouichi just _knows_ that the other is pouting.
> 
> He doesn't dignify that with a retort, because the gas is blurring his vision, and his stomach is growling in anxiety, and Mukuro is certainly evil enough to leave the preparation of the poison gas to his newest disciple who is practically fueled by sadistic glee.
> 
> Shouichi catches his breath when the two of them finally reach the emergency command center. To any outsiders, it looks like the top two Millefiore officials are merely leaning against a wall to take a brief rest, but Shouichi's right hand is behind his back and the modified wall is scanning his entire palm and all five fingerprints. He shifts a little after hearing a tiny beep, letting his left palm be scanned next.
> 
> His head is bowed down, the exertion from running around (even if it's just between two floors), is enough to physically drain him. Beads of sweat are forming on his high collar, but he simply bites his lip, a different countdown running through his mind.
> 
> Vongola will surely notice the sudden pause in the charging of the hadron cannon, they will surely notice the opening and take advantage of it, they will surely come and attack—
> 
> "Oho, Uni-chan is here already?"
> 
> Shouichi lets out a breath he doesn't realize he's been holding. He follows his boss to the emergency command room, where the entire bridge area has been replicated and condensed to fit inside the more compact area.
> 
> "Byakuran-san, I suggest you take a seat and _don't disturb me_ ," Shouichi dislikes being bossy, dislikes the thought of ordering someone, even if it's—especially if it's Byakuran, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and he wants to make sure that Byakuran is safe. Even though he's the brains behind this base takedown that will most probably end in Byakuran's death.
> 
> "I won't disturb Shou-chan," Byakuran promises, but he's pouting like a petulant child, "he needs his concentration, ne, Uni-chan?"
> 
> Uni doesn't make a sound—suspended in a glass chamber with liquid chemicals supposed to enhance zion wave transfer and compatibility—but Byakuran isn't expecting a reply. After all, he was the one who approved the order to keep Uni in a state between life-death-dreams.
> 
> Shouichi pushes his glasses up his nose, feeling sweat on his fingers, feeling nervousness taking over his entire body, feeling everything he has worked for slipping slowly away from his fingers. He trembles, in time with the shake of the Millefiore headquarters under Vongola's assault.
> 
> "Shou-chan needs all his energy and concentration so he can take me down, after all~"
> 
> To say that he feels a sudden, uncomfortable chill is a gross understatement. Cold air tickles the base of his spine, running up and down, and Shouichi is stuck on a long pause in-between his activation of the security code that will grant him absolute access to the entire headquarter's movements.
> 
> "...W-W-What are you talking about, Byakuran-san?" Shouichi doesn't turn around, even though showing one's back to the enemy is practically inviting a literal and metaphorical backstab. He doesn't turn around, because he can't move, even a miniscule inch.
> 
> "Oh! It's supposed to be a secret, huh! I didn't know that the game is still ongoing~?"
> 
> "I don't understand you at all, Byakuran-san," Shouichi's voice is shaking as well, trembling like a lost little boy.
> 
> "I know," Byakuran replies simply, on his throne that looks regal even though it's just an ordinary pod for dream machines, surrounded by so many unsightly wires and cables. "And that's why Shou-chan is going to kill me, ne?"
> 
> "Byakuran-san."
> 
> "Hm?"
> 
> "I'm sorry," Shouichi doesn't have any experience in speaking through tears, but now he has newfound respect for anybody who has tried to form syllables despite the onslaught of emotions—a hurricane of guilt, a whirlpool of longing, a thunderstorm of betrayal—but he must say his words, or else Byakuran won't be able to hear them anymore.
> 
> "It's okay," Byakuran's words don't match his impending death, not at all.
> 
> "It's impossible anyway. Because I'm already—"
>
>>   
> "You don't have to do this, Irie-kun," Tsunayoshi is supposed to give him the final instructions, final reminders, instead of trying to talk him out of the mission given to him by the Vongola's Elders. It intrigues Shouichi, in a way, how Tsunayoshi might be Vongola's leader, but still overpowered by the elders' council when making the most important decisions.
>> 
>> ...Not that Shouichi considers himself to be an important matter.
>> 
>> "I have to," he replies, stoic mask already glued to his face. "This isn't even enough to repay for what I've done."
>> 
>> "It's not your—"
>> 
>> "It _is_ my fault," Shouichi snaps his briefcase shut. His arms shake from the forcefulness that startles the Vongola's boss easily. "It's all my fault."
>> 
>> "It's Byakuran's fault," Tsunayoshi insists in dismay, flinching when Shouichi glares at him coldly.
>> 
>> Shouichi sighs after a few tense moments. Tsunayoshi will never get it—how everything is his fault, instead of Byakuran's. There's no point arguing about it.
>> 
>> Shouichi hopes his smile is reassuring instead of looking completely terrified. "I'll complete my mission perfectly."
>> 
>> And that's that.
>>
>>> "If you want your final thesis to be on dream machines, I can help you, but you have to actually _do_ your project, Byakuran-san."
>>> 
>>> "Ha~ Shou-chan sounds exactly like my supervisor~"
>>> 
>>> "I do not!" Shouichi certainly doesn't think that he has any resemblance whatsoever with the supervisor Byakuran just met up with.
>>> 
>>> "Hmm, but I remember you two saying the exact same thing, you know~"
>>> 
>>> "You need to get your memory checked, Byakuran-san," Shouichi comments wryly, "what Professor Kawahira said was that you—"
>>> 
>>> "So Shou-chan was totally eavesdropping!"
>>> 
>>> "I wasn't!!" Shouichi flushes pink under his friend's scrunity. He attempts to push the other's face _away_ (he's way too close!), but his hands are occupied with making sure his papers don't get blown to all four directions when the wind blows at an unfortunate moment. He sneaks a glance at Byakuran's face that has that mischievous look, like he isn't believing Shouichi's words, even though he _should_.
>>> 
>>> It's also the same expression that tells Shouichi that Byakuran is going to hijack the university's sound system and announce to the entire campus that Shouichi is an eavesdropper along with more atrocious lies, unless Shouichi indulges him with a defense of his actions that certainly don't need any explanation. At all.
>>> 
>>> "The door was _ajar_ , and you told me to wait for you directly outside—"
>>> 
>>> "Aww, was Shou-chan worried about me?"
>>> 
>>> Shouichi bristles. Right now, he's more worried about the students loitering around the campus witnessing this conversation. His reputation has already been soiled enough just by associating with the party-hardy man, but for them to see Shouichi being accused of being _concerned_ is just...
>>> 
>>> "I wasn't." Shouichi surreptitiously chances a glance around the perimeter. No loitering students. Good. The lack of other people in sight gives him a boost of confidence. "I'm not."
>>> 
>>> "You're not?" Byakuran echoes, and it's really _criminal_ how he can work the adorably innocent look without raising suspicion on the general public. It's unfair, because now it would look like Shouichi is bullying him. Which is absurd, because any way you look at their relationship, Shouichi is the one one always being strung along, being forced to follow Byakuran's eccentric whims, being swept away in the other's near-magical charm—...huh.
>>> 
>>> "I'm not."
>>> 
>>> Shouichi swears that if he hears that forlorn tone again, he'll—!
>>> 
>>> "...You're not?"
>>> 
>>> "Okay, maybe a little," Shouichi wonders how many times has he given in to that fake cuteness. Wonders when will he ever learn to resist. "But just a little."
>>> 
>>> "That makes me happy ❤" Shouichi bites his lip to stop himself from retorting about (the very questionable list of) things that make Byakuran happy, which apparently includes marshmallows, stealing all of Shouichi's clothes, secretly putting tabasco sauce on other people's meals, scaring away all the other students that want to sit with Shouichi in the library.
>>> 
>>> It's exhausting, talking to Byakuran, but it's also oddly refreshing. Not that Shouichi will ever admit that to anyone, ever. "Promise me you won't slack off?" (And then put off report-writing on the last minute? Thereby giving me stomach ulcers? went unsaid.)
>>> 
>>> "I won't," Byakuran's smile turns positively radiant, shaming the brilliance of the sun overhead. The sky is bright blue, fitting for spring. "It's a special project, after all ❤"  
> 
>> 
>>   
> 
> 
>   
> 

  


└ _i dreamed a dream_ ┐  
( _in nothingness_ )  
\- **v. the fool** -

Shouichi dreams.

"I can't believe you roped even Kikyo from Intellectual Property Law—"

"And Zakuro-kun from Mech. Eng'g~!"

"—and Zakuro as well!" Shouichi can't believe the extent of the other's cheekiness and laziness, can't believe how many students are willing to take time out of their equally-busy schedules just to voluntarily help out on another student's final thesis. With the amount of students involved, Shouichi can't help but suspect that Byakuran's dream machine project has evolved from a simple final thesis writeup into something bigger, more influential.

More dangerous.

"I guess this means you won't be needing my help anymore," Shouichi remarks, and there's definitely no hints of sadness there, no. "Which makes me happy, by the way, since you always keep on bugging me, and—"

"Oh, how silly, Shou-chan," Byakuran fond voice interrupts Shouichi's tirade, "of course I _need_ you."

"You already have Genkishi and Kikyo. And others." Shouichi's cheeks are heating up. "You don't need me."

"I should know who I need, yes?" Byakuran skips ahead, then twirls back to where Shouichi is standing, forcibly pushing his face to the redhead's. "I need _you_ , Shou-chan."

Shouichi feels dizzy, an intense flush on his face. "I-I-I-I get it! Q-Quit it, Byakuran-san!"

With a satisfied grin, Byakuran ceases his invasion of his friend's personal space. He remains at a distance that will cause anyone unlucky enough to walk in on them to do a double-take. It's one of Byakuran's specialty: creating situations that are entirely too easy to misunderstand. After suffering from the brunt of said misunderstandings, Shouichi knows better than to let Byakuran stay _this_ close. But he can't stop himself from trying to make sure, to make subtle remarks that can hopefully settle the uncertain heartbeats dancing in his ribcage.

"It's because I'm special, yeah, yeah..."

Byakuran's eyes are deep purple against the afternoon sun. "...Yes, you are."

And instead of his heartbeat stopping because of searing passion or because of any uncertainty regarding Byakuran's feelings for him, Shouichi's heart stops for a completely different reason.

Shouichi's heart stops in fear of the smirking demon in front of him.

> Shouichi dreams.
> 
> There are two Vongola members stationed around his apartment complex, there are four snipers positioned on the nearby rooftops, there are other spies scattered all over the general vicinity. They are all people who wants the person he's meeting to _die_ , as soon as possible.
> 
> Shouichi is one of them. Should be one of them, because there's no other place for him. Once he meets up with Byakuran, everything will change. It's for the sake of the future of this world, but that doesn't make the word 'traitor' sound any sweeter.
> 
> Three o'clock is arriving faster than Shouichi can prepare himself for his betrayal. It's already 2:55, only five minutes away from their meeting time, maybe ten minutes if he accounts for Byakuran getting distracted by some eroded stone formation of what used to be a building.
> 
> If Shouichi only looks at the Byakuran that he knows from university, at the childish person that gets easily sidetracked by the silliest things, at the chirpy friend that invites him to a million different places without a care about the toll on Shouichi's free time—it's unfathomable to link the existence of the charred sky and the eroded lands back to Byakuran.
> 
> But it's the truth—it's Byakuran's power that cripples the world down to its knees, drags the earth round to its destruction, incinerates the sky to its end.
> 
> Yet it's not, for it's actually Shouichi who—
> 
> "Ya," Byakuran's hands pluck Shouichi's eyeglasses from his face as a greeting, "I'm here~"
> 
> "So I noticed," Shouichi grumbles, standing on his tiptoes to retrieve his glasses. Byakuran hands it back to him after a few moments, since the height difference between them isn't big enough for Byakuran to place the glasses out of Shouichi's reach.
> 
> As soon as Shouichi wears his eyeglasses, he _sees_ his surroundings for what it is—a lone fortress floating amongst the black clouds and burnt sky; a residential complex housing people that longed to retrieve their lives; an eroded path flanked with armored spies— _sees_ the world for what it's become.
> 
> "I'm surprised that Shou-chan is now interested in helping me out." Byakuran's tone is casual, too casual, that it sets off alarms in Shouichi's mind. But Byakuran doesn't do anything that warrants the planted spies to blow their cover in an attempt to protect Shouichi, the only one capable of infiltrating the floating fortress.
> 
> "I've seen the rebuild of dream machine prototypes," Shouichi shrugs in an effort to show that he doesn't care about dream machines being mass-produced by people who don't even know the actual thought process that went into its creation, by people who don't even care about the consequences of letting people be drugged by their own dreams, by people who didn't create the original dream machine.
> 
> "Should we pass by a shooting range?" The casual tone is still there, deceptively calm, deliberately non-threatening. Lavender eyes observe him from beneath half-mast eyelids. "Virtual, of course."
> 
> Shouichi's grip tightens the tiniest bit around his briefcase's handle. "Is there something you should do there...?"
> 
> "Nah, I just thought that Shou-chan looks... _angry_." Byakuran's smile makes the room temperature drop several degrees. "Anger looks good on you, Shou-chan."
> 
> Honest and ultimately embarassing statements. Shouichi doesn't think there's any pleasantness with his face when he's angry, but he doesn't question Byakuran's strange tastes. Byakuran's fondness for him is the main reason why Shouichi is the one standing here, in the middle of a cramped apartment room that he will soon vacate forever, in the middle of a world where Byakuran is _god_. Tsunayoshi tries to explain it in ways that make Shouichi sound more like an irreplaceable genius than a convenient seductor, but Shouichi knows what they expect him to do, to exploit.
> 
> "We should get going." Shouichi adds a derisive roll of his eyes as a reply to Byakuran's random flattery. The sky is starting to darken (even more than it already is) and the dim lighting is going to make the snipers job more difficult.
> 
> Byakuran agrees with a roll of his shoulders; right hand on the handlebar of Shouichi's suitcase and left hand on the curve of Shouichi's hip.
> 
> If Shouichi really wants to, he can take Byakuran down, physically. The two years that followed the end of his post-graduate joint research with Byakuran led him to Vongola's base of operations; the two years were spent with a mixture of physical training and developing countermeasures to Byakuran's reign.
> 
> If Shouichi really wants to, he can end everything now.
> 
> If Shouichi really wants to.
> 
> But there's only one thing that Shouichi really wants, one thing that Shouichi has always wanted, and this isn't it.
>
>> "I'm sorry," Shouichi's tear-stained words echo in the room, "I'm sorry."
>> 
>> The sounds of war outside are all blocked by the reinforced walls; the only sounds that Shouichi hears are the gentle whirr of the interconnected dream machines, the rhythmic bubbling of life-support liquid solution inside the cylinder, the steady drip of Byakuran's blood.
>> 
>> "I'm sorry." Shouichi breathes into the room thick with the smell of death, breathes even as the body in front of him starts to completely lose life, breathes even as one of the cylinders behind Uni's starts to light up as the zion-wave transfer process begins. "I'm sorry."
>> 
>> This is already round two of Vongola's attack on the fortress this year and Shouichi has no doubt that this will be the last. This floating fortress will sink to the earth, that much is certain. Vongola now has Hibari Kyoya and Rokudo Mukuro among its ranks, not to mention the people that they rescued from Millefiore during their first attack.
>> 
>> This floating fortress will finally leave the skies—the altitude is steadily dropping; the missiles are being depleted; the shields are breaking down—but Shouichi doesn't care about that.
>> 
>> The Vongola are more careful with this attack, since they don't know that the only person alive in this floating fortress is their spy. Shouichi plans to use that misinformation as efficiently as he can.
>> 
>> There has been so many chances for him to kill Byakuran, but it's only now that he actually controls his trembling well enough to drive his pocket knife deep into the other's heart. There has been so many chances for him to kill Byakuran, but it's only because Byakuran doesn't have any weapons in his person whenever the two of them are together.
>> 
>> It's an overwhelmingly malicious trust that Byakuran suffocates him with; it's a trust that Vongola—no, _the world_ —wants Shouichi to strangle Byakuran with.
>> 
>> Byakuran dies but it doesn't matter really, since Byakuran has already died before.
>> 
>> If Shouichi—no, _the world_ —wants Byakuran to completely vanish from existence, they have to find and kill all one thousand bodies that Shouichi himself has personally prepared for Byakuran.
>> 
>> There are one thousand chances for Byakuran to live again, but Shouichi knows that it will never be like the real Byakuran.
>> 
>> Shouichi dreams.
>> 
>> He blinks, sways on his feet as the fortress starts plunging back to the earth where it was born from.
>> 
>> This dream must be Tsunayoshi's idea, or rather, Vongola's.
>> 
>> Shouichi knows what they want him to do, knows they want him to do a lot of things, knows they want him to see his past actions and resolve to correct his mistakes. To free Uni from the zion-wave generator, to divulge information about the thousand bodies' location, to wake up from the dream that started the moment he met Byakuran in a university years ago.
>> 
>> Shouichi dreams of a time when he doesn't witness Byakuran become a mere ghost of what he is, of a time when he isn't a person with only one goal, of a time when doesn't choose a path that will drag the entire world down with him.
>> 
>> Shouichi dreams.
>> 
>> And it is nothing but a dream.
>>
>>> Shouichi dreams.
>>> 
>>> "...It's still not enough."
>>> 
>>> Shouichi wants to break the containment cylinder and shake Princess Uni's fragile form, wants to go back in time and redo everything, even if it means reliving through every desparate moment of his life. Shouichi wants to, really wants to, but the reality is staring at him straight in the face; the reality of Byakuran's dead purple eyes is staring sightlessly back at him.
>>> 
>>> The zion waves he harvested from Uni is still not enough to completely wake the real Byakuran, the Byakuran from their university days, still not enough to bring an end to Shouichi's goal.
>>> 
>>> Shouichi knows, is painfully aware, that correcting a mistake with another mistake isn't going to end well.
>>> 
>>> Shouichi knows, but he can't stop himself from trying his best.
>>> 
>>> "Irie-kun!" Tsunayoshi's face is blurred by the pixels on his monitor, his voice reduced to static even though he's merely a few meters away. "We're here to save you!"
>>> 
>>> The androids that Shouichi has developed to keep the fortress functioning must have all been wiped out. Maybe some of them were harvested for Vongola's research team, but the fact remains that they are now completely useless.
>>> 
>>> "Irie-kun!"
>>> 
>>> Slowly, Shouichi stands up from his kneeling position on the floor, Byakuran's dried blood licking the edges his coat with a dull scarlet. He wonders when would Reborn kick Tsunayoshi on the head in order to let him realize the truth behind Shouichi's actions. He wonders when would he find the correct match between Byakuran's thoughts and the GHOST body he prepared. He wonders how many more bodies does he need to kill as soon as he spots the glint of something wicked in their newly-awakened eyes.
>>> 
>>> He doesn't want to count the number of Byakurans he has killed in the past hour—but his mind does, against his will, keep track of how many hearts did he pierce with the pocketknife that Byakuran himself gave to him.
>>> 
>>> It's not enough.
>>> 
>>> One Princess' remarkably high amount of zion waves can't bring back Byakuran from the world of dreams that interested him so much. Can't bring Byakuran back from the world of dreams that Shouichi has corrupted.
>>> 
>>> "Irie-kun, we're going to save you!"
>>> 
>>> It will never be enough.
>>> 
>>> No matter how many times he goes into this dream level holding his most recent memories, no matter how many times he undergoes the process of recovering himself, no matter how many times the world begs him to snap out of his mindset... it will never be enough.
>>> 
>>> "It's all my fault, Byakuran-san."
>>> 
>>> Because this is just a dream.
>>> 
>>> And nothing but a dream.
>>>
>>>> It is Shouichi's dream.
>>>> 
>>>> Never in his entire life did Shouichi ever think that such a high-risk study will be approved by the United Earth Force. There is really something to be said about times where paranoia about the wars of the neighboring countries overrule any rationality in the citizens' thoughts.
>>>> 
>>>> "I told you," Byakuran remarks with a know-it-all smile, "you're special, Shou-chan."
>>>> 
>>>> Usually Shouichi rolls his eyes at such flattery; usually Shouichi will ignore those words and hurry Byakuran with whatever they're supposed to do next.
>>>> 
>>>> "It's not just my project." Shouichi averts his eyes when Byakuran leans forward in interest. "This is _our_ project."
>>>> 
>>>> Byakuran shakes his head, his white hair kept inside specialized helmets with wave dischargers on the inside. His movements are limited since he's already half-way immersed to the zion-wave transfer cylinder. Wires and cables snake around the room and one misstep will delay the project for an entire month. "Maa, Shou-chan is the one who made my project useful."
>>>> 
>>>> Not everyone appreciates this joint experiment, Shouichi knows. Even their sponsors have plenty of grievances regarding their project, but their country needs this in order to protect themselves, in order to win in what is shaping to be a world-wide war.
>>>> 
>>>> Shouichi pushes his glasses up; his right hand settles on his churning stomach. He needs to move to the other end of the spacious testing room in order to operate Byakuran's dream machine.
>>>> 
>>>> ...It's not really a dream machine. Shouichi has expressed his concerns about the misleading name, since Byakuran's creation plays with the brain waves and memories, thoughts.
>>>> 
>>>> Shouichi has suggested, multiple times, that Byakuran call it a hypnotism machine instead, since the next practical step after messing around with brain waves is to affect a person's thoughts. Byakuran thinks that 'hypnotism machine' is something that will put people off, so the name stays as dream machine.
>>>> 
>>>> Combined with Shouichi's ambitious project of fine-tuning—or rather, _humanizing_ —robots' artificial intelligence, along with the discovery of zion waves that appear to be the key to the secrets of humanity's consciousness... this joint project is born.
>>>> 
>>>> Transferring human intelligence to robots in order to make stronger war assets.
>>>> 
>>>> The first three phases have all been successful experiments, but the fourth phase requires more fine-tuning. Byakuran volunteered himself to be the person to synchronize with the machines.
>>>> 
>>>> If this phase is successful, they can release their controlled androids within the next month. They can make sure that the war doesn't go longer than intended. They can make sure to change the world.
>>>> 
>>>> "Let's make this phase work, Shou-chan." Byakuran's voice calls out to him as he makes himself as comfortable as possible in a cylinder that's slowly filling up with conduction liquid.
>>>> 
>>>> The atmosphere between them is tense, desolate. Shouichi tries to lighten the mood with a smile that probably comes off as a pained grimace. His lips form words that remind the two of them of days spent cutting classes and playing computer games from Shouichi's dorm room. "If this works, we don't have to play CHOICE to rule the world."
>>>> 
>>>> "That's true," Byakuran agrees with a smile, eyes closing, the synchronization with the zion waves starting. "Shou-chan is really special. ♥"
>>>> 
>>>> Shouichi believes those words, truly believes.
>>>> 
>>>> For the first time—
>>>> 
>>>> "Have a nice dream, Byakuran-san."
>>>> 
>>>> —And also the last.
>>>> 
>>>> This is Shouichi's dream.
>>> 
>>>   
> 
>> 
>>   
> 
> 
>   
> 

  


└ _i dreamed a dream_ ┐  



End file.
